


The Woodcarver

by LadyHorizon94



Category: Original Work
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Horror, Original work - Freeform, bodyhorror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:48:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHorizon94/pseuds/LadyHorizon94
Summary: In the middle of a little town, lived a Woodcarver who made the most magnificient dolls.He lived by tree that never lost its' green.He was the busiest during the Christmas time.
Relationships: The Woodcarver/Dryad





	The Woodcarver

**Author's Note:**

> Little something for christmas.

It was Christmas time. There was no way anyone could mistake this as any other time of the year by the fresh snow that had covered our little town with whiteness, the joyful children that were skipping from school to home, time to time stopping admiring small shops, making lists on their head what do demand from their parents next, by the shopkeepers who stocked their shelves with shining toys and mouth watering sweets and would shoo some of the tad too curious children away from loitering in front of their doorsteps.

The whole town smelled of gingerbreads, of sweet oranges and puddings. The decorations were twinkling on every street.

Yes, it was indeed a Christmas time. However, there was something that stuck out like a sour thumb right at the heart of this humble town.

A large oak, that was on its’s full greenness even when the air was so cold, people’s breath turned into mist. The snow never seemed to even touch its’ leaves and frost never seemed to bite it.

The children of the town were convinced, the Oak was enchanted. The adults however, scoffed at such nonsense but when their bright-eyed sweet boys and girls asked how then, it was all possible, adults just mumbled how they were busy and not to bother them.

Connected to this Oak was a house, which was owned by the old woodcarver who made the most beautiful wooden dolls of the town – perhaps even of all the land, or of the world. He could carve delicate princesses as well as crooked old hags, snotty counts and countesses, ragged peasants and rosy cheeked children – even a nutcracker made to be a prince. 

No one could deny his talent, and everyone could agree his prices were more than fair. He never was too busy even at Christmas and he was never sold out even – not even at the busiest time of the year.

That’s why little Tom – or well, not quite little anymore since he was twelve years of age – rushed through the town to the shop. His cheeks and nose were red from the frosty cold and there was snow on his clothes from the wrestling with his school mates.

He barely felt the iciness of the wind or the already melting snow on his clothes. This year, he had decided to give the most perfect Christmas gift to his little sister. He had earned just enough money by doing little errands to his neighbors and after carefully counting the money and noting that it was indeed enough, he had rushed to the shop his blue eyes twinkling and black hair getting messed up by the wind.

The bell rang brightly, as he opened the door and stepped in.

Everything on that little house was made of wood. The counter, the shelves – even the little bell by the counter, and the dolls of course.

Oh, how lovely they looked! And so live-like. Tom suddenly felt little embarrassed by his ragged appearance and he started to wipe the snow off rather bashfully. He cleared his throat and did a little bow. “Good day,” he chimed politely.

“Why, good evening, young Tom.” The boy jumped a bit. For a moment he thought that the doll of a count near him had just spoken, but when it stayed still, mouth closed he turned to look and saw the old woodcarver himself at the corner of the shop.

Tom had no idea how the man had gotten there without him noticing but he was more embarrassed by the fact that he was caught speaking to the dolls.

The old carver didn’t seem to mind, however, His gentle brown eyes were more amused than mocking and his smile was as soft as always. Despite the wrinkles and white hair, his body was strong and he stood tall.

“Good day, sir” Tom said sudden shyness taking a hold of him. If he hadn’t lost his hat while wrestling, he would have taken it off too. “I would like to place an order.”

“Oh, you would?” The woodcarver pointed him to sit at the big cozy chair. “What kind of order would that be?”

“It would be for my sister, sir. She would like to have the most beautiful doll in town”, Tom answered humbly, handing the money. “I can pay in advance sir,”

The carver didn’t even glance the coins in his hand. “I better get to work then. But first…” The man disappeared to the backroom behind the counter but he didn’t stay for long, coming back with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and offered it to the boy.

“Thank you, sir!” the boy piped politely but eagerly, taking the cup. Oh, how it warmed his still cold hands. It was still too hot to drink but it didn’t stop Tom from inhaling the delicious scent that fumed to his nose.

The woodcarver chuckled. “You are quite welcome.”

Tom waited a bit and took a sip from his drink. It was sweet and thick, and it dripped down to his throat slowly.

All in all, just the way hot chocolate should be.

He sat down sipping his drink rather contently, while thinking. There was a question on his mind. Something everyone in the town were dying to know. However, the boy was rather hesitant. What if it was something personal? Or a secret. Or worst of them all: Something mundane, after all.

The old man, however, was very observant and the child’s curiosity didn’t escape him. “What is it, young Tom?”

Tom inhaled, preparing for the answer or possible lack of it. “Sir… I was thinking… Why is the tree always green?”

The man didn’t seem surprised about the inquire nor bored by it. “Why, that’s because my wife is a dryad, my boy. She lives in this tree.”

“Where is she? I have never seen her.” Tom looked around before taking another sip,

The man chuckled. “She rarely shows herself to the strangers.”

It made sense. Surely, such a creature would get frustrated by all the nosy humans who would be overly curious about her.

The boy yawned. All the wrestling and running around that young rascals were known for had made him extraordinarily tired. His eyelids were getting heavy and Tom couldn’t help but to close them. Just before he let sleep take him, he heard a crash when something hit the floor.

When Tom came to it, he saw the fire that danced on the fireplace. The Woodcarver sat near it fire illuminating half of his face. His eyes were oddly hollow as if they had been sucked of all the emotions and the wrinkles on his face looked deeper than before.

This worried Tom of course and he attempted to stand up and go to see what was wrong.

But… He could not move.

His limbs felt heavy and lifeless. His whole body was stiff and hard. Such condition startled the boy and he wanted to open his mouth to say something only to realize it didn’t open.

Finally, The Woodcarver turned to look at him with those lifeless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He said sounding almost sincere. “She wishes for children of her own.”

Tom felt hard embrace around him. He belonged with this oak now


End file.
